


The Meeting

by Cephy



Series: Abyss college AU [4]
Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Alternate Universe - College, Coffee, First Date, Incest, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-18
Updated: 2008-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 4 of the Abyss College AU series, in which there is coffee and conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meeting

He got there early-- had left early, because he didn't want to take the chance of being _late_, but it wasn't like he could lurk around unseen in an open field for the extra fifteen minutes. And so he ended up leaning against the fence at the far end of the field, watching bodies hurl themselves through the air in the distance. He recognized the game instantly-- ultimate frisbee, all the rage-- but it became apparent after just a few minutes that this was no friendly pick-up game. They had matching shirts, kneepads, a sleek shiny disk of heavy plastic that they threw with what looked like deadly accuracy for nearly the entire length of the field. Guy hadn't been aware that the school had a varsity frisbee team, but this was obviously it.

Guy strained his eyes, but couldn't pick out any sign of red hair in the crowd. _But that doesn't mean anything_, he told himself, even as he turned to look at the adjoining fields, making sure yet again that they were empty. _Half of them are wearing hats_.

His earlier nervousness had started to return during the walk from his apartment, making a lump in his stomach as he stood waiting; it was probably that distraction that kept him from hearing the footsteps approaching from behind until it was too late.

The fence bowed as another body leaned against it, chain links creaking. "I feel I should start by apologizing for my idiot brother," a voice said bitingly-- so similar and yet_ not_ to the voice Guy had spoken to on the phone earlier. "For some reason he thinks we'll want to be seen in public with him when he's covered in mud and smells like a locker room."

Guy's breath did that catching thing again-- like his lungs momentarily forgot how to expand-- and he had to swallow hard before turning his head. Standing with arms folded across his chest was one of the two figures that had been haunting his memory for days, with his eyes slitted against the afternoon sunlight as he looked out over the field. He had a messenger-style bag slung over one shoulder, his hair pulled back neatly to the base of his skull, obviously just come from some class or other.

"Well," Guy heard himself say, "I suppose that's what patios are for. We'll just have to make sure we're upwind."

The redhead turned, met his eyes, and he didn't say anything but he did smile, amused and easy and sharp-- only then his eyes slid down and Guy was hard pressed not to lift a hand to cover the still-fading mark on the side of his neck, which was never quite covered by his shirt. And the smile shifted into that _smirk_, he had been right about that after all.

The redhead straightened, held out a hand. "Asch."

"Asch," Guy echoed, and thought inanely: _he's had his cock up my ass, and now he introduces himself_. He took the proffered hand, Asch's skin warm against his own. "I'm Guy."

Someone blew a whistle, down the field, and the players began drifting to the sidelines-- one of them stopped and looked their way before going to collect his things; Guy followed that figure with his eyes as it started in their direction. Wearing grass-stained shorts, a damp t-shirt and a bandana, he was just another anonymous player until he came close enough that Guy could see his face, grinning and flushed and newly-familiar. "Hey, you're here," he greeted.

"Obviously," Asch said with a roll of his eyes.

"Shut up," the other one said without missing a beat, obviously a well-practiced reaction. His eyes-- _green_, god, who the hell had eyes that colour without contacts?-- never left Guy, and he made an aborted gesture as if to offer his hand as his brother had, before glancing at it and grimacing at the dirt. "Damn," he muttered.

"Still think it was a good idea to meet now?" Asch asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Shut _up_." The second redhead spared a quick glare for his brother, then turned back to Guy with a lopsided grin and a shrug. "I'm Luke."

"Luke," Guy echoed again-- another name to go with another memory, a label for the skin he could still almost feel under his fingers. He very carefully didn't look at the length of leg showing below Luke's shorts, but he was suddenly very aware that it was there.

_Forget 'awkward'. This is **surreal.**_

They agreed on coffee, picked one of the many local establishments at which to get it, and the brothers fell in close at Guy's sides as they walked. They talked around him, mostly-- sniping back and forth in what was obviously a familiar game-- and despite everything it was strangely comfortable.

They settled at a small table outside of one of the less commercial cafes, and after the first sip passed in silence Luke gestured easily towards Guy's bag. "So what's your study group studying?"

"Advanced mechanical design. Our midterm's on Friday."

"You're in mechanical engineering?" Asch asked, and nodded when Guy confirmed the guess. "I know a few people starting in that program-- they're not looking forward to that class."

"It's tough," Guy said. "Professor Iemon knows his stuff, and he expects everyone else to as well. But it's-- kinda fun," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "I like finding out how things tick, so--"

Asch was looking at him with a little smile; Luke was grinning outright, and both of their eyes were very intent on him. Guy cleared his throat. "What about you?" he tried. "What are you taking?"

"He's poli-sci," Luke said, jerking a thumb towards his brother before said brother could do more than open his mouth. "He actually likes all of that international political crap, if you can believe it. Me, I'm general arts," he went on, with an impish expression that said he knew exactly what the reputation of that program was.

"Luke is in school more for the thrill of the student's lifestyle than out of any real desire for education," Asch said dryly.

"Hey, I'll figure it out," Luke protested easily. "Got plenty of time."

They continued to talk-- school, the city, light topics to fill the air as the levels in their mugs went down-- and Guy was relieved to discover that he was truly enjoying their company. So when Asch set his mug down on the table with a somehow deliberate clink, and tipped his head to the side to say: "So, are you free on Saturday?", it was easy to give a smile in response.

"Not anymore, it seems."


End file.
